


The Eighty-fifth Sentinel Tidbits File by Many and Varied

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Series: The Senad Sentinel Tidbits Files by Many and Varied [85]
Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M, Senslash Fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 02:40:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/793112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist





	The Eighty-fifth Sentinel Tidbits File by Many and Varied

## The Eighty-fifth Sentinel Tidbits File

by Many and Varied

Author's disclaimer: The characters aren't mine, these tidbits aren't mine. Honestly, I'm not responsible for any of it!  


* * *

Rating: the whole range  
Pairings: J/B (mostly!) 

* * *

Tidbit #1 

Re: A sample of Jim's reaction to an author wanting to put Blair on top. 

* * *

"What do you mean Blair on top?" 

"I mean that I prefer him, Blair, to be. on. top. Of you." 

"What? I'm out of here!" 

"Ellison, come back here, you hear me?" 

"That went really good and I thought you were trying to help me, to change positions for at least one time." 

"Blair, pouting does become you, but don't take it too far. I'm trying, okay?" 

"Well, you have to try some more; it would help if you could just write a decent story. You know writers have a way with their characters." 

"Thank you so much, oh wise one! But for me to be a writer, first I have to find some help and then a proper Muse who will be willing to stand over my shoulder and whisper stories to me, not some neohippie thing who yells at me, because he cannot top he's big, buff partner. Got it?" 

Sample ends! 

Stagie  


* * *

Tidbit #2 

"Hey, chief, why are you laughing?" 

"Jim, did you ever wonder ... nah, never mind." 

"What? Spit it out." 

"Well, a sib on the list of the cop buddy show we both love, sent me an addy to a really funny website. It features THE TESTICLES OF FAMOUS PEOPLE. Jim, Jim ... are you zoning?" 

"No, just wondering what we can do to fill all this leisure time you seem to have." 

"Jim, what are you ..." 

Unzip. 

Kiss. 

Kiss. 

Lick/suck/kiss. 

"God, oh, don't stop ..." 

"Hey, they might not be famous, but they're all mine!" 

Deana 

Testicles of Famous People:  
<http://home8.inet.tele.dk/tbm/v3.htm>  


* * *

Tidbit #3 

Ellison gave his bubbling spaghetti sauce another stir and looked around as Blair, who was seated on the sofa with his laptop, burst out laughing loudly. 

"What's so funny?" 

This post." 

"What's so funny about it?" 

"It's a list of things to do when you're bored." 

"So, read me some..." 

-end- 

* * *

I could attach the list that made me giggle, but I thought I'd adapt it and create a Senad appropriate one. 

11 things to do when you're bored.  
(Imagine you lived in Cascade - right next door to Blair and Jim...) 

11\. Create your own statistics - such as what's the ratio of psychos, killers, etc. to Cascade's and wonder if it's why your insurance premiums are so high. 

10\. Give Jim's kitty a mohawk 

09\. Give Blair's wolf a mohawk 

08\. Take a side trip to the hospital to recover from 09 + 10 

07\. Give a big smile to everyone you meet, and watch their reactions. 

06\. Replace Simon's cigars with exploding joke cigars. 

05\. Take another trip to the hospital to recover from 06. 

04\. Give Blair a mohawk. 

03\. Take another trip to the hospital to recover from 04 

02\. Take your life into your own hands: sign up for classes at Rainier. 

01\. Make sure your life insurance and will is up to date, after all you are living in Cascade. 

Red  


* * *

Tidbit #4 

Just a thought: Where did the expression 'Coming out of the closet' originate? 

* * *

"Hey Jim, you in there?" Simon's voice was an unexpected intrusion to the two men in the hotel room. 

Blair went pale. "What's he doing here? I thought you said we'd have until two o'clock!" He looked frantically around the room for a place to hide, as Jim shrugged back into his jacket, and straightened his tie. 

"He wasn't supposed to be this early," Jim hissed back as he shoved Blair into the small closet at the back of the room. "Stay there, and shut up! Uhh, yeah, Simon," raising his voice, "I'm just comi- I mean, I'll be there in a sec." There was a snicker from the closet, and Jim scowled at the closed doors. 

When he answered the door, Simon brushed past him into the room. "We don't have to be at the convention until two, but I thought we could get a drink- Jim, are you all right?" 

"Uhh, yeah, fine, Captain, why?" Jim's sentinel hearing picked up a shuffling in the cupboard behind him, and he tried to glance sideways at the closet to make sure it wouldn't come open. 

Simon saw the look. "Because, Jim, you seem to have forgotten something." He looked pointedly at the shirt hanging on the closet door, and back at Jim, who had the grace to blush. 

"Oh yeah, whoops." Jim grabbed the shirt and put it on, before discovering that he was unable to do it up, because Blair had been rather eager to get it off, and had ripped all the buttons off. "Uhh, listen Simon, that drink sounds good. How about I meet you in the lobby in few minutes? I've got a few, ahhh, things to do here first." The sentinel was unable to look at the captain during this speech, and Simon grew suspicious. 

"Jim?" 

"Simon?" 

"Is there something you like to tell me?" 

"Uhh, well, not really, Simon. But thanks for asking." Jim did his best to sound normal when a loud snicker erupted from the closet. 

Simon grinned. "Right, Sandburg! Come out of that closet. NOW!" 

Erynn  


* * *

Tidbit #5 

"Blair, where are my shoes?" demanded Jim. He was looking down the stairs at his partner, perched comfortably on the couch. Blair was barefoot, and had the windows open to the light summer breeze. 

"Shoes? What are shoes?" asked Blair in almost-honest confusion. 

But Jim could hear the slight tinge of humor in his voice. "The things you wear on your feet, hairboy. Now, where are my shoes? Every single pair of shoes I own has mysteriously disappeared." 

"Why would you want shoes on a day like this?" smiled Blair. "And why do you think _I_ know where your shoes are?" 

Jim sighed in exasperation, and marched down the stairs. 

Blair watched in open appreciation. Jim's feet were strong and slender, with carefully tended toes and nails. Blair loved looking at Jim's feet. He liked it when Jim wandered the loft in his bare feet. They were sexy and noble, much like Jim himself. 

"Stop ogling my feet and tell me where my shoes are, now." Jim resisted the urge to tap his feet, knowing that it would only make Blair even more distracted. 

"What shoes?" At Jim's growl, Blair decided that his Sentinel had had enough of the game. Sadly, Jim didn't know all the rules. "They're in the closet." 

Jim walked over to the closet, and bent down to look for his shoes. Blair grinned at the excellent view of Jim's posterior that move presented. "I don't see anything, Sandburg." 

"They're on the top shelf." 

Jim looked up, and reached for the box that Blair had hidden there. He stretched up on his toes, trying to reach it, but failed. 

Blair smiled to himself. Objectifying one's best friend and lover certainly did have its benefits, if you did it properly. He watched Jim's feet arch and extend, powerful and graceful in every move, and sighed quietly in appreciation. 

Jim gritted his teeth, and walked back to the living room to get the step stool from where Blair had left it. He knew that Blair was watching him walk, and knew that climbing the little ladder would really tickle Blair's fetish for his feet. 

"Don't think you'll get away with this, Sandburg. I've indulged your little fetish long enough. You're gonna owe me big time for this." 

Blair smiled. "Anytime, man. Anytime." 

Nejla  


* * *

Tidbit #6 

"Oh, man," Blair groaned, sitting on the couch in front of his laptop with his face resting in his hands. 

"What's wrong?" Jim asked, sitting down next to him. 

"I told you about the email I got from our affiliate." 

"Yeah." 

"Well, I decided to share it with the list, but I was so excited that I forgot to type my name at the bottom of the post." 

"I'm sure your name is not the part of the post they were concerned about." 

"I know, but I still feel like an idiot." 

"I'll make you feel all better, Chief," Jim said with the raspy growl that always made Blair's cock stand up and take notice. 

Jenn  


* * *

Tidbit #7 

RE: ...that "From Here To Eternity" scene would have had a much greater impact for _both_ Jim and Blair had they _not_ been surrounded by at least twenty drooling women, all with cameras/videos, clicking and humming away. 

Uh, not to mention the "egging" on..... 

* * *

"A little to his left, Jim, I can't quite get _all_ of you in the shot...." 

"Uh, Jim, could you cum one more time? I ran out of film just as you screamed." 

"You did _bring_ the nipple ring, didn't you, Blair?" 

"Hey, Blair, toss your head to the left this time. The sun catches your hair _just_ right and turns it all golden." 

"Jim, can't you suck harder? The poor guy is panting here." 

"Yeah, _twist_ those nipples, Blair, remember, he's a sentinel." 

"Maybe _you_ want to see Blair's face during penetration, but _we_ want to see two gorgeous butts." 

"Aw, Jim, couldn't you say it at least once? Just for us? Come on, say it, say, "Mine", please?" 

And last but not least: 

"And just how long _does_ a tube of lube last for you guys? And what's your favorite flavor?" 

allison  


* * *

Tidbit #8 

A public service announcement for anyone who is planning on venturing outside this summer. 

* * *

**"AAAUUUGGHH!!"**

Blair strode into the loft, pushing shut the door behind him. He grabbed the backpack from his shoulder and with a swift movement tossed it onto the floor below the coat rack. "Off, off, off," he chanted as he hurriedly removed his belt and trousers. 

Jim looked up from the magazine and watched his partner's frantic stripping. "You know Chief, it's not that I'm not appreciating the... well, striptease for the lack of a better word. But I was hoping that we could have dinner first." 

Blair scowled at Jim as he hopped to the couch attempting to remove his right trouser leg from around his shoe without falling on his face. Finally the trouser leg came free and they were tossed aside. Blair unceremoniously plopped down on the couch beside Jim. He kicked off his shoes, raised his feet, rested them on top of Jim's leg, and frantically began scratching his lower legs. "Off, off, off. Oh, god. Just go get a knife and cut my legs off. Will you, Jim? God, they itch! And my Benadryl stick just isn't enough this time. I had to bite my tongue to keep from screaming a couple times during the meeting. God, I thought I was going to start whimpering. I've trekked through jungles and forests, trudged through briar patches from hell, and I've never had bites itch this bad. I swear." 

Jim reached down and grabbed a small bottle that he'd stuck in the crevice of the couch. "Here. You looked so miserable when you left for your meeting that I stopped at the store on my way home to find something to help. I was going to pick up the Benadryl spray because I thought that might be better, but I noticed this gel instead. Here." 

Blair looked yearningly at the bottle hoping that it would be his salvation and reached out to take it from Jim. "I love you, Jim. I really, really love you." 

"Hell, Chief, I already knew that." 

* * *

A personal endorsement: Benadryl Gel is wonderful, wonderful stuff. 

ane  


* * *

Tidbit #9 

A Name By Any Other Name Would Stink So Bad...

"Jim, get this," Blair said, reading the slim book out loud. "A Texas millionaire names his daughters, Ima and Ura." 

"So?" 

"Their last name was Hogg." 

"Shit. Child abuse, chief." 

"Yeah. Get this. Someone once named their kid, Lavender Sidebottom." 

"My, my," Jim said, grinning. "I knew a guy named Harold Bottom." 

"OooooOOooo. How about Alcan Sunrise Brinkerhoff?" 

"How about, Trucking Along Cedarhome?" Jim countered, wondering once again why humans hadn't become extinct long before now. 

"Lord. Makes Blaaa-iirrrrrrr sound normal." 

// ... Almost ...// "It sure does, Chief." Jim grinned and turned back to the sports page. 

"Jim? What do you _really_ think of Blair?" 

Jim stared into really gorgeous eyes. 

"Love it, babe." 

"Good," Blair said, smiling. //...liar... // 

"No problem," Jim said, smiling back. //... sucker... // 

Helmboy  


* * *

Tidbit #10 

An Obsenad: Hope 

_Do you hear it? The pitter-patter of the rain? The swift swishing sounds of the wind curving between each droplet?_

Can you hear it? The soft splatter of liquid against glass? Against concrete? Against metal? 

Against flesh? 

Do you hear the tears fall? Can you hear the tears fall above the soft beating of your own heart? 

Can you feel my hand in yours? Can you feel the sadness in my touch? Can you hear my silent farewell? 

In the soft, rosy tint of dawn, the sentinel nods in silence. And he holds on to the one person that has held him up and led him through the too-many trials he'd had to face. 

_Yes, Shaman. I hear. I feel. I know. And I will still be here._

And the sentinel holds his shaman closer, each drawing strength from the other, depending on their faith in the other to face what the new day will bring. 

Shirin  


* * *

Tidbit #11 

Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. 

The trouble with killing your roommate, Jim decided, was that. . . . 

Jim paused, chewed another peanut, and reflected. The Jags-Wolverines score flashed across the screen. He frowned. He could not come up with a good argument against homicide, other than that he'd have to arrest himself afterwards. Or dispose of the body. 

Click. Click. Click. 

The trouble with disposing of bodies was that they tended to turn up, sooner or later. You could shellac them and plaster them up in a wall. You could drop them from helicopters into the bay. You could chop them up, boil them up. There'd still be bones. Small anthropologist bones. And hair. You could make a rug of the hair. You would have to do something with the hair. You could. . . . 

Click. Click. Click. Click. 

"What the hell are you doing?" Jim asked calmly, around a peanut. He was proud of his calm, the achievement of three years of rigorous self-training. Sandburg called it mellowing, and Jim had almost disabused him of that point of view, once or twice, before deciding that a profile of mellowness would win him more cookies. Why then did Blair's heart twirl through a few flamenco beats in response to his question? 

"I'm deleting 500 posts from my mailing list unread." Blair began clicking again, absorbed. 

"Isn't the point of being on a list that you want to read the messages?" 

"You would think. I subbed to a list about folklore but somewhere along the line it turned into a list about etiquette." Blair sounded resigned and dryly amused rather than irritated. 

_I am the irritated one in this room_ , thought Jim. _How do I always wind up in this spot?_ Sure, maybe this was just the weight of tradition having its sway, but it didn't seem right or fair. Someone else needed to be irritated in this equation. 

"Do you have to _click_?" Jim rose from the couch and moved toward the table while trying to look simultaneously threatening and unthreatening, looming and amiable. Ambivalence could be a way of life. Sandburg. Blair. Blair. Sandburg. "What are you, a man or a mouse?" 

Blair's glasses crawled an inch down his nose as if removing themselves from the proximity of wayward sparks. Blue eyes gave Jim a look. He looked indulgent, and his lips were doing semi-curves of understanding. "Driving you crazy is just one of the many side benefits of this project," he observed, giving the mouse a little wiggle. 

Jim answered this jibe with his own look, orchestrating a concerted readjustment of brows, chin, mouth and eyelids. Mouth corners a notch down, eyelids thirty degrees lower, chin tilted on its axis, brows scarcely needing a nudge. . .yes, he'd got it just right. The frizzy-haired menace was raising both hands away from the laptop in mock surrender. 

"Give the tribal drums a rest, Chief. It's a Thursday night." Jim managed to pull off the non sequitur with a tone of authority, so he decided to leave it at that. 

The other man was unimpressed. "I'm sure that's significant in someone's cosmology. To the rest of us it's just a stumbling block in front of Friday. Actually, on the Mayan calendar, today is 'Hun Noj'. It's also Portugal Day." Blair stood up and stretched, popping and crackling from hair to toes. The bone-deep embedded cacophony of his friend's body was always amazing to Jim. 

"What's. . .never mind. Have a beer. Watch the game." Jim headed for the fridge, determined to have the beer in Blair's hand before he could argue. He heard and felt Blair wandering up behind him. 

"I really should clear out my mailbox before it explodes," Blair murmured, sounding sleepier than he had a moment ago. 

"Just put the laptop in the bathtub and walk away, Chief. We'll call Joel if it starts counting down the apocalypse." He handed over the beer, looked fondly down at Blair's mild face. Blair took a swig in a gracefully masculine way that satisfied Jim's standards and made him want to thump the kid companionably on the arm. Instead, knowing it would be more persuasive, he reached out and ran his thumb along Blair's jawline. The face he touched canted in reflexive pleasure. Jim let out a breath of a sigh. Arm-punching suddenly seemed far too inexpressive for his needs. Blair blinked once, slowly, all honey now, pliant, his darkly blossoming pupils reflecting Jim's own face back to him, captured under heavy eyelids. 

"Come watch the game," Jim said, but the command sounded too thoughtful, too dubious. 

"You sure there aren't better things to do?" Blair wondered aloud. 

"It _is_ a Thursday night." (Blair, Blair, Blair) 

"Hmm. Maybe you're right. . .I haven't done any laundry yet this week." 

"Then messing up your boxers would be a bad idea." 

"It would." 

"You should probably take them off." 

"You may be right." 

"If you can admit I _am_ right, I'll help you out of them." 

Jim's face danced around the idea of a smile as his mouth kept still and ready, and then he allowed everything to spill into a grin. Life was too short to drive a hard bargain when you could be driving hard into life instead. 

"Baby, you're _always_ right." 

(anna) 

* * *

  
Tidbit #12

Blair almost had a heart attack after falling asleep on the couch with his head phones on. The CD he'd gone to sleep listening to had long since stopped playing. What woke him up was a new piece of music starting to play hours later. He hadn't heard Jim sneaking about to replace the CD with another. 

He glared at the Sentinel standing by the window as the music played on, then he heard the lyrics and the complaint he'd intended to launch into, died on his lips as he listened carefully. 

Tonight is very clear  
as we're both lying here  
there's so many things  
I wanna say  
I will always love you  
I would never leave you alone  
Sometimes I just forget  
Say things I might regret  
it breaks my heart to see you crying  
I don't want to lose you  
I could never make it alone  
I am a man,  
who will fight for your honour  
I'll be the hero  
your dreaming of  
We'll live forever  
Knowing together  
That we did it all for the glory of love  
You keep me standing tall  
you help me through it all  
I'm always strong when you're beside me  
I have always needed you  
I could never make it alone  
(chorus)  
We're gonna live forever  
Knowing together that we did it all for  
The glory of love...  
Repeat...  
We do it all for love...  
Just like a knight in shining armour  
>From a long time ago  
Just in time I'll save the day  
Take you to my castle far away.  
(chorus) 

Blair moved up behind his Sentinel, who turned, and wrapped an arm around him, and together they stood at the glass doors watching the sun setting over the city, Jim's jaw resting atop Blair's curls, no words needing to be said, they'd already been said, even if another man's voice had delivered the words, Blair knew Jim meant them from the heart. 

End 

Red 

* * *

End The Eighty-fifth Sentinel Tidbits File.

 


End file.
